Nobody's Home
by TwentyDollarsForANoseBleed
Summary: Dyson after Kenzi's death when she sacrificed herself to close the portal. One shot.


Even though it he knew it would always end like this, Dyson never imagined it coming so soon. He was supposed to have her for another five lifetimes, hundreds more years of Kenzi in all her glory with a million more memories to keep, as his mate, his to love, to honor, to protect. She was supposed to drift away from him silently, slip through his fingers seamlessly, in the middle of the night when her beautiful face withered from age and her once clear blue eyes clouded.

For the first few weeks, he didn't believe it. Even after they buried her, and the cold body that no longer held the tiny girl who always managed to seem larger than life was tucked away neatly into a section of earth that was far too underserving and plain to ever do her justice, Dyson didn't believe that she had passed on. She was everywhere, then, except she wasn't.

Dyson would see her in the mirror when he gathered up the courage to look himself in the eye, and for a fraction of a second Dyson would see Kenzi instead of himself, and she'd smirk at him through the glass in that tantalizing way he'd come to love, only to evaporate when his eyes begged for another look. And if that wasn't torture enough, sometimes Dyson would wake up in the middle of the night, and stretch out his arm, fully intent on pulling her body close to his and bury his nose in her hair, only to find the sheets empty and cold. He'd roll over then, fold his face into his pillow and try to sleep, but it always evaded him. So Dyson would spend the remainder of the night looking for solace with an aching in his chest that wasn't there before.

It took months for him to leave his loft, and even then he was numb to the world. At first he tried going to the Dahl, only to find that it had closed up and Trick had migrated to other lands. Dyson just pushed aside the rotting wood that held the door closed and walked right in though, like he would have less than a year ago. He wandered the place in the dark, pausing at each room before seating himself at the bar. It was worse in here though, all the wisps of Kenzi filled the tavern and hollowed him out at the same time. She was a sensory overload- he could see her leaning over a table with a pool stick in hand, wobbling on too-high heels, swiping liquor off the top shelf even when she'd already drunk her weight in alcohol.

So Dyson poured himself a glass of scotch from the only bottle left in the empty, cleaned out bar, and sat at the only stool left in the place, drinking and reminiscing all the times he'd taken for granted the way Kenzi seemed to always be around. It was so ironic, how Dyson would be irritated with the tiny girl for pushing her way into their lives and how he used to wish she'd leave, and now he would gladly bury himself alive just to look at her once more.

It took Dyson hours to finish that bottle, but he emptied every glass, and when there was no more left, he placed the glass upside down on the table, stood, pushed in the stool and walked out of the bar, shifting the wood back into place on his way out. It was the last time he was ever there.

The rest of that afternoon passed in a blur, and without really knowing how he'd gotten there, Dyson found himself at the clubhouse

Bo had long since packed up and moved out, her scent was stale and old. Carefully, he entered the house where Kenzi had spent the last three years of her life. For the longest time he stood in the living room, half expecting her to dash down the stairs in a blonde wig, wearing a too short skirt with too high heels and ask him where he'd been, while giving him that smile. That smile, the one she seemed to save just for him, was one he'd remember until the day he died. It was the kind you come across once in a lifetime, one that disregarded everything but you and exactly how you were standing there in that exact moment. Suddenly, everything that you were- every decision you ever spent hours making, every thought that rose from your mind, every action made without fear of the consequences, every word that ever uttered your lips, every desire that ever crossed your mind in the shadows of the night- disappeared. It evaporated, shattered, broke- whatever you call it, the way she smiled convinced you it didn't matter, she saw you only how you were standing in front of her and finally you were free. Free of inabbitions or doubts, and free to be anyone or anything you so desired to- because she would believe it, no matter how crazy or insane, she understood you the way you wanted to be understood.

He never once came across that smile again, not in the years he wasted drifting from place to place after her death, but to be fair he wasn't really searching. Kenzi was forever burned into his mind- all the little pieces that should have contradicted themselves which made up her personality were impossible for anyone else to measure up to, and he was alone in the way he mourned for mass of creatures who never got to know her and the way she made even utter chaos seem meek and insignificant in her presence. She lived far too many years too early, and died far too many years too soon for the humans that live their present day lives to be anything but blissfully unaware of how the most magnificent of them was doomed to walk among the shadows for all eternity.

For Dyson, death was welcome when it came to collect his soul. For he had outlived Kenzi a thousand years and spent every last one of them wishing it had been the other way around.


End file.
